


Sick Like Animals

by orphan_account



Series: Chao's Kink Bingo [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Comeplay, Community: kink_bingo, M/M, Obedience, Rimming, Werewolf Sex, alpha!Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-05
Updated: 2012-08-05
Packaged: 2017-11-11 11:26:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/478031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a full moon.  Stiles has a plan.  Derek takes over from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick Like Animals

**Author's Note:**

> Titles is from 'Animal' by Neon Trees

If Stiles had an ounce of self-preservation, he wouldn’t be doing this. But, then again, if that was the case then he wouldn’t be running with wolves in the first place, and this never would have been an issue.

Instead, Stiles found himself driving to the clearing in front of the Hale house on the full moon. As a general rule, those nights were ‘wolves only’, just because it was too easy to really damage a human if they got out of hand. But it was easy to talk his way into going, to convince the Betas to go on a run by themselves, to get Derek alone in the house.

After all, this wasn’t the first time.

Of course, that didn’t stop Derek from asking the obvious question. “What are you doing here?” He growled, like he had no idea what Stiles was up to. Any other day, Stiles would have replied with something sarcastic and rolled his eyes, because what do you _think_ I’m up to, you dope? 

But not today. Not tonight. Instead, Stiles just closed his eyes and tilted his head back, exposing the delicate flesh of his neck, pale and unmarked and blank, waiting to be marked. To do anything else would just be a waste of effort, and Stiles would much rather save his energy for more fun things, thanks so much.

Eyes flashing red and staying that way, Derek gave a growl, this one _hungry_ , and buried his face in Stiles’ neck. Without the hesitation or control he normally displayed, the fangs came out and latched onto him. It wasn’t enough to pierce the skin, not really, but it was plenty to leave a nice bright mark for anyone who cared to look. And then another. And then another. Soon, Stiles’ neck was more hickey than not, and Derek took to lapping at the skin, as though he could taste the blood so close to the surface.

Through it all, Stiles remained quiet and limp, letting Derek support his weight. He let out soft sighs and hitched breaths, but otherwise had no input. It wasn’t his place. Derek was in charge - the Alpha. And the Alpha got what he wanted.

Another growl ripped its way out of Derek’s throat, the vibrations of it making Stiles’ raw throat give achy sparks that went straight to his dick. “Strip,” He commanded, in the voice that made his Betas duck their heads and get to it as fast as they could. Stiles copied their behavior and body language, slipping out of his clothes as quickly as possible. As he kicked off his jeans, he slid his hand into the pocket and grabbed the tube of lube, because he might just need that in a little while.

“Hands and knees,” The next order came, and Stiles dropped down immediately, uncaring at the way he jared himself on the wooden floor. He’d be aching tomorrow anyway, so what were a couple more bruises? Without needing to be asked, he flopped his lower body forward, so his chest and cheek were pressed to the dirty floor and his ass and cock were presented for Derek’s eyes. That got him a low noise of mixed approval and warning, and Stiles tensed slightly. Message received. Don’t act on his own again. Derek let it go because it was what he wanted, but he’d be in trouble if he did it again.

Maybe one day Stiles would push him. Get himself in trouble. But for now following orders was too good not to.

Another low noise sounded from behind him and the hairs stood up on the back of Stiles’ neck out of some prey instinct. He shuddered, breath coming out in frantic little pants, but if anything he just got harder. Then there were teeth against the cleft of his ass, clawed hands pulling cheeks apart, and a tongue a little too wide and thin to be strictly human against his hole.

Stiles’ howled, the noise all animalistic pleasure, but Derek growled at him for it, so he bit down on his tongue and then his fist to stop himself. Instead he did his absolute best to hold still for the Alpha, muscles shaking lightly with the effort of not bucking back.

The tongue lapped against the edges, circling the rough texture of the muscle, before sliding it. Saliva dribbled down his legs and balls, pooling slickly on the floor, and Stiles swallowed back a whimper, digging his fingers into the wood in a search for needless purchase.

Soon enough, his ass was soaking wet and as loose as a tongue could get it. Derek gave it as slap, claws digging tiny pinpricks into the pale skin. “Flip over.” Without any hesitate, Stiles did, keeping his legs spread wide so Derek could see his dripping hard, flushed cock. For a long moment he lay sprawled out, letting the Alpha take in the view as he pleased. 

Snatching Stiles’ hand, the one hold the lube, Derek yanked it down between his legs. “Finger yourself until you come.” That earned him another hitched breath, and Stiles popped open the bottle and squirted a large gob into his hand, slicking his fingers. Since he was already started off from the tongue, he started with two fingers, scissoring himself open like he wanted Derek to be able to see all the way inside of him. He wished it was Derek’s fingers opening him, but it was just too dangerous with the claws out. The Alpha wouldn’t even be able to fuck him properly, since he simply wouldn’t be able to control his thrusts and knot well enough to keep from ripping Stiles apart.

The fact that the idea still made him _want_ said not so good things about his psychology, but Stiles had long since accepted that.

While he fingered himself, Derek wrapped his hand around his own dick, uncaring at the claws (he would heal basically at once if he got nicked, the bastard), and started to pump himself hard, glowing red eyes fixated on Stiles’ ass. “Faster,” he growled, fangs flashing as he spoke. “Harder. Fuck your hole. Show me how much you want it.”

Stiles couldn’t help the soft, breathless keen that drew out of him, but Derek’s snarl cut it off before it could finish. Instead, he increased his speed to an almost painful speed and slipped in a third finger. Squirming lightly, he quirked his fingers in the search for his prostate, needing the release. When his fingers scraped over it, Stiles shuddered, going suddenly tense, and his breath came in huge, thready gulps.

But he couldn’t come. Not yet. 

Staring at Derek’s chin rather than meet his eyes - that was a challenge, and Stiles wanted the opposite of that - he spread his legs just a little farther and tried to beg without moving or making a sound. It wasn’t that difficult, really. Every line of his body screamed with his need for release, from the angle of his hips, to his frantically pistoning fingers. Still not meeting Derek’s eyes, Stiles tilted his head back, inch by slow inch, showing off his vivid neck in a position of total surrender.

With a grunt, Derek came onto Stiles. Nearly flooded him, because even if he hadn’t gone on enough to have a proper knot, the Alpha still came impressive amounts. Moving so he was hovering over the smaller boy, Derek pressed his palm against Stiles’ come coated stomach, claws scoring lines through the liquid as he slid it to wrap around his poor, neglected cock.

“Now.”

Just like that, Stiles did, adding his semen to the mess on his chest. Derek pumped him lazily, milking him for all he was worth, and when Stiles went completely limp he started to rub, massaging their mixed fluids into his skin. There was far too much for it all to soak in, especially since it was already starting to cool and become tacking and thick, but Stiles knew from experience that it would make him absolutely _reek_ of sex and Alpha and _Derek_ to any werewolf.

Not letting Stiles get up to clean himself off or even to stretch out a little, Derek flopped down next to him and dragged the smaller boy over, until they were flush, chest to chest. Resting his head on Stiles’ shoulder, the Alpha made a low noise suspiciously close to a purr. His arms wrapped around, pinning them together as tightly as they could, and Stiles could feel the way the rapidly drying semen was making them stick together. But because he was a good boy, he didn’t fight, just accepting what his Alpha wanted. 

It helped that it was what he wanted to. Not to mention that Derek would most definitely be making up for it in a few nights. Content and limp and tired, Stiles let himself drift off for however long he could. Soon enough, Derek would push him down for round two, and he was very much looking forward to it.


End file.
